After the Dawn
by Ravenia
Summary: After the Blight, Alistair must pick up the pieces and find hope again after the woman he loves has perished killing the Archdemon.  He finds hope and family in the person of a young pickpocket he meets in Denerim.  Last chapter features Teagan.
1. Chapter 1

A story of hope and family. I was intrigued by the idea of 'what would happen to Alistair who doesn't have duty as the king to cling to after the Blight took his love'. Since I like to think hope is more vital to life than even love, this story was born of that idea. This story has been previously posted on the Bioware boards but that was sans beta reading. Cadsuane has helped me tighten the narrative and improved the telling for posting here.

My thanks to Cadsuane for her exemplary Beta reading skills and thanks to Xanderpein for being able to bounce ideas off of for this tale and for the male perspective. Thanks to Bioware for their wonderful story and game world, they own all rights to this tale, I just borrowed their world and people to write my story.

* * *

After the Dawn

Chapter One

Michieri blended into her surroundings as Granger had taught her. With her nondescript gray cloak, no one noticed her slight frame moving amongst the throng in the marketplace. Shooting a furtive glance toward Sergeant Kylon, who was standing at his post near Wade's Emporium, she moved between people and stalls, trying to blend in. As long as no one got too violent, he tended to look the other way when someone got pick pocketed. Not that he was corrupt, mind you—she felt sure he wasn't on Granger's payroll—but he knew that it was pointless to get into it with a petty thief like her unless it got violent, which she tried to avoid as much as possible.

Selecting her mark, she moved into position. He was being mobbed by several children and really didn't notice her moving closer. Her focus narrowed down to the purse at his belt. Drawing her little thigh dagger out, she prepared to cut the strings holding it. It was a tiny thing really—just a paring knife that in kinder times her mother had used to peel apples for her pies, but it was quite sharp and did the job readily. She tried to slip away in the press of people, but he caught her movements and raced after her.

Running into the alley in front of the Wonders of Thedas, she slipped up over the little fence between the store and the warehouse, but she wasn't fast enough. He caught up to her and grabbed her wrist, pinning it behind her. Pain shot into her shoulder, making her cry out, and he grabbed back the purse she had stolen.

"Little sneak thief!" he growled. "I'll take what's mine now."

"Please! Please don't hurt me!" she gasped. "I'm just so hungry. My little brother and I haven't had very much to eat since the arl's guards killed our parents in the riots!"

"The riots…?" He jerked away her cloak to reveal deep auburn hair and delicately pointed ears. "An elf." Then his voice hardened, "And a thief, no less."

"Only out of necessity," she pleaded, looking imploringly at him, liquid green eyes brimming with tears.

He closed his eyes, his face etched with pain.

"And this brother…does he even exist? Do I want to know?"

"Do you?" she repeated. "Does it matter? I'm starving. There's not enough food to go around or money to buy it for that matter. A girl's got to eat!"

She took a closer look at her captor. He was actually sort of cute in a scruffy, needs a shave, kind of way. He had dark blonde hair pulled back at the nape of his neck with a leather tie and the beginnings of a beard a shade or two darker starting on his face. The world weary hazel eyes pulled her in though. His expression reminded her of some of the faces she'd seen in the Alienage, something she hadn't expected on a human. He seemed so unhappy. There was also the nagging sensation that she thought she might know him.

His grip eased and she tried to slip out. Shaking his head, he pulled her along behind him. "It's to Sergeant Kylon for you. You won't pull this again."

"Please, please no. Don't do this. They'll hang me. Is it so wrong to just want a little something to eat? Is starvation enough of a crime to warrant death?"

She was bluffing, of course. She knew Kylon wouldn't do anything. She wasn't worth the effort. His hazel eyes seemed to burn straight into her soul as he stood regarding her. Michieri squirmed under his scrutiny. She knew she was too thin, barely on the living side of starvation and, for once, this worked in her favor. His hand completely encircled her wrist easily.

"All right," he finally assented. "Take these."

He pulled out several silvers and put them in her hand then released her. She stood there dumbfounded, but he'd already turned and was walking away. Looking down at the coins in her hand, she couldn't believe her rare luck. Not only had he _not_ taken her to Kylon, but he'd given her coins. There was enough for several days of meals for her and her imaginary brother.

"Why would he do that?" she asked aloud. _And could she get more?_ she wondered.

She followed him, watching as he bought some provisions and stowed them on his huge mount. Then he mounted and rode for the gates. Indecision tore at her. If she followed him, it promised to be a way out of the rut she had been in since her parents died two years ago in the riots. She'd been on her own at the tender age of eight, trying to survive any way she could. It hadn't been easy, but she couldn't think of many ten year olds who could take care of themselves as well as she could now.

At first, she had made a few bits begging, but then she had learned from Granger how to sneak and grab what she wanted. That knowledge had come at a price she was no longer willing to pay. Lately, the nature of her dealings with the rogue had changed timbre to something a bit more menacing. Granger was getting more and more insistent that she bring in more money, hinting at "other things" she could do that were more "pleasant" than cutting purses. Judging from the hollow eyes of the older girls he had under his thumb, she knew it was a life she had to escape. If she could find a patron who was as soft a touch as this man, she wouldn't have to run and hide and give over most of her day's earnings to Granger.

That he was leaving the city was even better. This was her opportunity to escape and it was leaving out the gates as she watched. Her mind suddenly made up for her, she raced after him.

He was several hundred yards on the road leading out of the city when she caught up to him. He pulled on the reins and looked down at her.

"Please, take me with you!" she begged.

"I can't," he replied. "You should go back into the city."

"I don't eat much and I don't take up much space. I can clean," she hastened to make her case, ignoring his head shaking. "Please, I promise I won't be a bother. I can't stay in the city anymore. I would rather honest work than stealing."

"No, go back to the city. The wilds are no place for a little girl."

"Please, I can't. Please take me with you. You don't know what it's like always having to fight for what little scraps I can find."

He stopped, closed his eyes and she held her breath, biting her bottom lip and pleading with her eyes.

"Maker's breath, I can barely take care of myself let alone a child," he muttered.

"Then I'll have to take care of you," she said, grinning, sensing he was bending.

"Can you cook?"

"I can cook." The words were hesitant. _Sort of_, she added in her head.

He chuckled at her reticence and she grinned.

"And what of your "brother?" Won't he miss you?"

She shook her head. "No, he won't."

"Somehow I thought not."

He pulled her up behind him on the horse and turned westward again.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Michieri, ser."

"I'm Alistair. Pleased to meet you, Michieri."


	2. Chapter 2

Children of the Corn...Lord of the Flies...Feral children are such fun, eh?

* * *

Chapter Two

The evening sun was setting when Alistair pulled up his mount and made camp beside the road. He set Michieri to gathering firewood while he laid out the bedrolls and gathered the stones for the fire.

He paused over one of the bedrolls, closing his eyes and bringing it to his face to draw in the smell with a deep inhalation. Even after a year it still had a touch of the jasmine she had scented her skin with. Memories flooded his mind of nights spent loving her and learning to please her and simply holding her when life troubled her. It was perhaps madness to have kept the extra bedroll with him this long. No one used it, but he couldn't bear to part with it. It was something that had been close to her and he could still imagine he held her in his arms when he stuffed her pillow under the blanket and held it at night.

_At least now it would be used by someone,_ he thought to himself, watching the young elf girl gather wood.

More than once he had wondered why she'd come after him, why she'd seemed so desperate to leave the city, but she hadn't elaborated beyond what she had told him outside the gates. He supposed it had to do with how hard she had it. The little arms wrapped around his waist had been painfully thin. Things were hard in the Alienage, he supposed, but he hadn't realized it was _that_ hard. Rhiannon would've been furious if she had known what was going on, but he supposed war was like that. After the war came famine, pestilence and death. It was almost inevitable. He supposed Anora was doing her best to deal with things, but when it came to the elves, no one really gave a damn, least of all those in power. It was how things had always been and would be how things were, long after he was gone from this world.

If life had taught him nothing else, it was that he couldn't change anything no matter how much he wanted to. Those were Rhiannon's dreams, shared with him for a time, but they had died with her. The past year since the Blight ended he'd just been existing and not really living anymore.

When she had finished gathering the firewood and set it down in their camp, he pulled out flint and tinder and soon had a warm fire going. Shivering, she pulled closer to the flames, holding out her hands, trying to warm up. As thin as she was, she had little reserves to stay warm, but she seemed reluctant to complain. Doubtless, because she feared he would turn and force her to go back to Denerim. He stood, pulled off his cloak and draped it over her shoulders. She pulled it around herself and huddled into it.

After a bit, she seemed more relaxed and warmed, and he stood and walked over to the horse, speaking reassuringly to her.

"Michieri, come here please," he called.

He was removing the tack to allow the horse to graze more freely. Michieri had seemed fascinated by the animal and he had seen her earlier running her hands along the horse's fuzzy coat. It was a sturdy breed of Ferelden stock with thick shoulders and body, and stockings of thick, long hair down over its hooves providing extra insulation from the cold ground. Deepest brown in color, she looked black in the light of the setting sun.

Clutching his cloak around her shoulders, the girl rose and walked over to him.

"Michieri, this is Aislin," he said, running his hands along the horse's withers and spine, smiling. "Aislin, this is Michieri. I want you to get familiar with each other and the best way for you to do that is to tend her. She needs to be brushed," he said. He took out her brush and began showing Michieri how to curry the horse. "Like this."

Michieri took the brush and began combing the horse as he showed her. Aislin pushed against Michieri's hand and snorted with obvious pleasure. Michieri giggled.

"She likes it!" she said.

"Make sure you get her mane and tail, too," he said. Then as an afterthought, remembering something Leliana had said to him, he added, "And no ribbons."

She looked askance at him a moment when he laughed, realizing she wasn't going to understand it. She ducked her head and nodded, going back to combing Aislin. Once done with grooming the horse, she sat near the fire again. He was aware that she always watched him out of the corner of her eye. Obviously, she may be with him, but she didn't trust him yet.

Tonight, he cooked dinner and Michieri's expression left no doubt as to her estimation of his cooking skills. He realized she probably was a better cook as she stared at the unappetizing gray mass in the pot, but it was nutritious and would put a little meat on her bones. He grinned when he heard her stomach rumble in eager anticipation.

The expression in her eyes made him a little nervous and she seemed unable to sit still. If a pot could boil faster by observing it, he thought she would have set fire to the food with her eyes alone.

"When was the last time you've eaten?" he asked.

"Yesterday, I think. I haven't had a hot meal since I can't remember when."

He frowned and set the stew to one side on stones near the fire to stay warm without drying out over the open flame. Then he ladled it into two bowls, passing one to her. Before he could break and hand her some bread, she snatched the entire loaf, raced to the other side of the camp and began to wolf down the food as if she were terrified he would take it away from her. Frowning quizzically, he paused in eating his own food to watch her. Her manners were wretched, even compared to his and he was no dainty eater. She ate it so fast she nearly choked on it, using the bread to wipe clean the bowl and licking her dirty fingers afterward.

He raised one brow at her as she regarded him over the last bit of bread left. For a moment he thought she might actually have second thoughts about eating the entire loaf. Then she finished it off, picking crumbs off her shirt and putting those in her mouth, too. Apparently, she hadn't been lying about the starvation part at all.

She moved closer to him, reaching for his bowl and he relinquished it to her, a little intimidated by her. Retreating again to the other side of the fire, she ate that, too, licking it clean afterward.

"Well, umm, so I guess that's dinner," he said. "I've never seen anyone enjoy my cooking so much."

Her stomach grumbled in protest.

"Would serve you right, you little pig!" he admonished her. "Now it's time to get some rest as we have an early day tomorrow."

He indicated the bedroll she was to take next to him and he slipped into his. He didn't wait to see if she took it, and lay there watching the stars above. It was a clear night, and he was grateful. Hopefully the weather would hold until they could reach an inn. He was thinking maybe the Spoiled Princess on Lake Calenhad, though that was a couple weeks away at this pace. The inn's proprietor owed him a favor for helping resolve that little issue with the cultists threatening him and his family.

Actually, it was Rhiannon he would be obligated to, but Alistair hoped he wouldn't realize this until after he had dropped the girl off and was long gone. When he'd accepted her company, pity had played a large part of it, but also there was something, some spark he had seen in her eyes that had reminded him of Rhiannon. Still, she couldn't very well continue to travel with him and they would have to part ways soon. Preferably this would be before he got too attached to her. Maker's breath, he could barely take care of himself let alone be responsible for a child.

He felt rather than saw her get into her bedroll, and cover herself with the blanket and his cloak. His eyes strayed to her slight form. All he could see of her was her short-cropped, tousled red hair and the tip of one ear poking out from the blanket she had wrapped around herself like a cocoon.

With a soft sigh, he closed his eyes and prayed he would be able to sleep without dreams tonight.

* * *

Michieri was disturbed by a weight across her waist and she froze in terror. She supposed now was the time she must pay for the kindness of the stranger who'd taken her in and she braced herself for what would come.

Long, tense moments passed before she let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She opened her eyes and turned her head to see he had curled up along her backside and was holding her in his sleep. Wetness from his face dropped down onto her shoulder, and she felt sure he thought she was someone else.

Not sure she could trust him, she lay awake, listening to his mumbling protests, watching his eyes fluttering beneath his lids as he dreamed. He seemed to draw comfort just holding her and she supposed it was a small price to pay for being in his company.

It was some time later before he settled down finally and rolled back over. She almost regretted it, as he'd been quite warm and she shivered as the cold crept over her back. At least now she could relax enough to sleep again. Her eyes closed and she gave herself over to slumber once more.


	3. Chapter 3

3

Chapter Three

Alistair rose, as was his habit, fairly early in the morning. Rhiannon had loved early morning, watching the sun rise, more than any time of day and she always referred to the rest of their day as "after the dawn". Most mornings they spent snuggled together, watching the sun rise over the horizon before it would be time to break camp and move on.

Yawning and scratching idly at a flea bite, he glanced over at the girl again, still wrapped in the blanket. He hoped they would reach some source of water soon. She reeked and, he suspected, she harbored quite a few little passengers on her body. If he could coax her into taking a bath, he knew of some things he could do to remedy that problem, thanks to Wynne.

Mid-afternoon found Michieri clinging to a small elm, her voice raised in protest. Alistair was trying to pry her hands off the tree and pull her toward the river.

"Maker's breath, child, I'm not asking you to drown yourself, I just want you to take a _bath_!"

"No! I'll catch cold! You're trying to _kill _me!" she shrieked.

It seemed every time he would pry one set of fingers loose, she regrouped with the other hand and was holding on tightly, her cheek pressed to the rough bark of the tree.

"You smell worse than a mabari hound. And you're covered in more fleas than clothing!" He argued. "You won't be getting those all in my beddings!"

"Ummnunn" she shook her head, protesting wordlessly.

Panting, he stepped back a moment. He was a warrior in excellent shape, he had fought darkspawn and was afraid of little in this world, but this tiny creature confounded him. Reluctant to be more forceful for fear of breaking her, he felt as if he were all thumbs around her. Then he got a mischievous grin on his face as an idea struck him.

He leaned in closer to her. "All right, you don't have to get a bath."

She looked warily at him, her grip not loosened in the slightest. "I don't?"

"No, but then you don't get the pretty new clothes I planned on getting you from the market at that town we won't be getting to until tomorrow at this pace. Because I'm _not _putting new clean clothing on this filthy, smelly ragamuffin," he said gesturing in disgust at her.

"But…but…." She let go of the tree.

Laughing, he snatched her up, carrying her over his shoulder toward the river. Shrieking, she kicked and tried to make him let go, finally resorting to biting him, but he wasn't to be denied. Ignoring her protests, he walked out to the middle of the water and still holding her, he dunked her under.

Spluttering and splashing, she tried to get away, but he wasn't letting go of her. He began to soap up her head using the last of the special herbal soap Wynne had made for him. If she was at the tower when he stopped through, maybe he could get some more.

* * *

An hour later Michieri sat on a rock, the sun drying her hair, body and freshly cleaned clothes. After he had washed her head, Alistair had been reluctant to wash more intimate parts of her, leaving her to her own ablutions. Now he was washing himself a bit down the river from her. She could make out his shoulders and head, but that was it.

What a curious man he was. She wasn't sure what to make of him actually. Most of the men she knew wouldn't be so shy about intimate things. She imagined Granger would have loved taking advantage of her, but Alistair acted like touching her was akin to touching a burning stove.

Except last night, when in his dreams he cried and held her to him. He had spoken a little during the dreams. All she had been able to make out was a name: Rhiannon. She knew of a Rhiannon Mahariel—that was the name of the Dalish Grey Warden who'd slain the Archdemon and stopped the Blight. Of course, everyone knew the "Hero of Ferelden" as Queen Anora had named her. She frowned. Could Alistair have known her?

She remembered that just before the archdemon had laid waste to Denerim, she'd been sick. The plague had struck the Alienage and the Tevinters had come with their spells to stave off the illness. She had gone to them in hopes she could be cured, but they'd merely taken her in back, seen she was ill, and then turned her out. Riddled with fever, she'd crawled into an overhang of a warehouse and watched as a group approached Shianni. An elf led the group, a young woman with dark red hair and interesting facial markings.

She frowned, recalling a tall man behind the Dalish woman, blond hair cut short and face clean shaven, and tried to reconcile that profile with the one of the man she was with.

She shivered and hopped off the rock as memory overwhelmed her. That wasn't a good time in her life. There had been precious few good memories since her parents had died.

* * *

He strode out of the river, bare to the waist and sat near the fire in their camp. He was aware of her glare, but didn't care. Maker's mercy, he'd never seen someone make such a fuss over getting clean and prayed he never would again. She joined him by the fire, but said nothing.

"Your turn to cook," he said. "Shall it be burned trout tonight?"

"Did you catch any?" she asked.

"Actually, I think we'll have to wait a while. You probably scared them away for a few hours with all that caterwauling."

Her bottom lip poked out in a pout, but she said nothing.

"Left over cheese then?" she ventured.

"Oh, not after that behavior, young lady, you won't get out of cooking."

She sniffed at his tone and looked away.

"So want to see if we can catch anything?" he queried.

She shrugged and followed him to the riverbed.

It took a bit of coaxing, but soon they had a couple of fat trout spitted and cooking over the fire.

"You smell better," Alistair said, waving his bread at her. "No more mabari pup. I treated the bedrolls so we'll have to do without those tonight as the herbs do their work. We're going to have to rough it on the grass if you don't mind."

"I've slept in doorways and on stone floors. I don't think a little grass is going to bother me," she assured him.

He smiled, watching her in the light of the fire. Despite a few rough patches, she seemed to enjoy being with him and she was starting to thrive in his care. It astonished him how quickly he was growing attached. He actually found himself beginning to dread reaching the Spoiled Princess.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The market in the small town in the Bannorn was bustling with business. Being situated on miles and miles of fertile farmland, it was in a unique position with the road going right through town to allow for the local farmers to peddle their wares. There wasn't a lot of excess that could be sold as most of the produce was being collected for Queen Anora's taxes. By the same token, her men also distributed more seed and made fertilizer more available to the farms to increase production. Alistair had to admit she was doing a creditable job ruling the country in the aftermath of the Blight. Rhiannon had been right when she said leaving Anora in charge would be good for Ferelden and he wondered if he would have done so well.

He haggled with vendors, getting smoked meats, fresh vegetables and fruit and even a candied apple for Michieri.

* * *

Michieri watched in concern the way his coin purse was dwindling in size and wondered where they would get more. Her eyes began to cast about for a likely mark she could hit when he went into the general store.

She found a plump bann's wife haggling with a vendor over candies and she loitered nearby. As the exchange began to heat up—apparently the woman felt she was being overcharged for the sweets—Michieri sneaked in and slit the woman's purse. She was about to turn around when she bumped into Alistair standing behind her, frowning. He grabbed her hand and snatched the woman's purse out of it.

"My lady," he said. Michieri's eyes shot up in terror. "I believe you dropped this. My servant found it."

She regarded them and Michieri put on her sweetest smile. "Oh, yes, m'lady. You dropped it over there by the apple stand."

"Well, thank you. How nice to find someone so honest these days. Here you go." She reached into her purse and pulled out a silver coin. "Here's a whole silver piece for you, little one."

"Thank you," Michieri ducked into a quick curtsy.

He took her by the hand and led her away from so many tempting targets.

"You don't do that anymore. Not with me anyway," he admonished.

She frowned. Picking pockets wasn't the noblest profession, but it had been something she had worked hard at perfecting. Some days being a thief was the difference between an empty belly and one with a little food in it. He made it sound like she actually had a choice. Then, she wondered_,_ _did she have a choice_?Her eyes wandered to the package in his hand and she was suddenly more curious what he had purchased in the store.

"Is it something for me?" she gasped. "New clothes?"

"Maybe, but you'll have to wait now. I've worked it out in trade."

"Trade?" she repeated.

"I have to do a few chores for the owner of the shop and you need to deliver this to its owner." He passed the package to her. "It goes to the brick house with the white fence, three rows down. He says you might even earn a small gratuity if you do it quickly."

Picking up the broom outside the store, he began to sweep the wooden walkway in front. He didn't seem to mind a little honest work.

Michieri really didn't mind either. Running down the road with the package in hand, she delivered it to the maid who answered the door. She even earned a couple of bits for bringing it to them.

The coins jingling in her pocket made her feel a lot less insecure about things.

When she returned to the store, she saw Alistair hefting some boxes and putting them on storage shelves in the back.

"Is this she?" the storekeeper pointed at her with his chin.

Alistair grinned at her. "That's her."

"You can have any dress you want from that rack there," indicated the shopkeeper. "Or if you prefer you can have pants and a blouse."

She went over to the rack and began sorting through clothing. Most of it was of simple material, sturdy wool or cotton. She was trying to pick between two dresses and thought now would be a good time to get Alistair's opinion.

"What do you think?" she asked. She held first one, then the other over her.

"Andraste's knickers! Not those!" his voice actually broke in the middle of saying it and his cheeks flushed red. "Those are _too_ old for you. Get something else."

She looked at the dresses, low cut and thin material designed for more mature forms.

"I'm not a baby, Alistair. I can wear what I want."

"Not those! Not around me, you won't. Get something else!"

"You don't think these would be pretty on me?" she asked, pouting a bit.

"They're very pretty, but _not _for you. Get something else."

She shrugged, she hadn't really wanted the dresses anyway. Instead, she chose pants and a poet's shirt as those would be more comfortable riding.

She was set to work sweeping out the store and when the day came to a close, they finally finished. Alistair picked up a package from the man and walked out to his horse.

"Another delivery?" she asked.

"No," he said, passing it to her. "This is for you."

Hastily, she unwrapped it. She'd never received a present before. She blinked and held it up regarding it. It was a little doll, dressed in a pretty flowered dress, a suggestion of a head and yarn for hair.

"You're trying to make a _baby_ out of me, Alistair!" she protested. "I'm _not_ a baby and you _aren't_ my father!"

* * *

He sighed as she stalked off to where they had made camp earlier, throwing the doll onto her bedroll and sitting in front of the fire, sullenly. Dinner that night was quiet and Alistair was grateful for the silence. It had been a while since he had traveled with anyone and he'd forgotten how prickly girls could get.

She went to her bedroll early that night and when he finally went to sleep, he paused to pull the blankets over her, catching himself as he realized he was tucking her in. He frowned. He wasn't supposed to get attached, he reminded himself. Maker's breath, she could get really angry so fast when awake. Sleeping now she looked so peaceful, it was hard to remember her fury just a couple of hours ago. His hand stroked her soft hair affectionately. She was certainly a handful. He wondered if Eamon had ever felt this confused trying to raise a rebellious, angry, bastard child.

Then he noticed she had tucked the doll under her chin and held it close to her, sleeping with it, and grinned.


	5. Chapter 5

Some of the dialogue for the dream sequence isn't mine. While not word for word, there are snippets from the actual game dialogue included.

* * *

Chapter Five

The weather turned. Ferelden wasn't known for its sunny days and the gray cast over the landscape added to the sour mood of the two companions. Michieri huddled in the woolen cloak Alistair had insisted she wear with her face buried in his back, trying to keep the rain out of her eyes as much as she could. Alistair kept blinking and wiping away the rivulets of rainwater plastering his hair to his scalp and running annoyingly into his eyes. For two days they'd endured a soggy camp with no fire and he'd voiced a hope to find shelter soon. The tarp they used, waxed for waterproofing, was inadequate for keeping the rain off them as it seemed to come in from the sides and even up from the very ground at times.

Michieri wasn't used to so much _openness_ around her. The city was downright claustrophobic compared to the terrain they had been slogging through the past two days. In the city, overhangs and empty buildings could be entered to escape the rain. There were a lot of empty buildings since the purge last year.

She huddled closer to Alistair for warmth, shivering. It seemed no matter how cold it got, he always radiated warmth. She wondered how he was able to do that, but didn't question it. Not for the first time she wondered where he was going, but until now she had been reluctant to bring it up. Even in her child's mind, she sensed that would bring a closure to the matter she wasn't ready to accept.

The horse slowed and then stopped and Michieri opened her eyes to see what the delay was. She wanted _out_ of this Maker cursed rain as quickly as possible. Blinking, she saw lights nearby about thirty yards away from the road.

"What is it?" she asked.

"A farm, maybe we can shelter for the night in the barn or something," he replied, turning the horse toward the light.

An hour later, they sat listening to the wind whistle through the boards of the sturdy barn. The sound of rain beat steadily on the roof and walls but for the first time in two days they were dry, having warmed and dried themselves in the farmer's house before taking advantage of a lull in the downpour to run to the barn to spend the night. Michieri was grateful for the respite from the deluge outside.

Michieri didn't like the silent Alistair who was her company tonight. He jumped at every sound, something akin to dread on his face. He banked the fire for the evening and went to his bedroll.

"I'm going to sleep," he said. "Good night."

Michieri nodded and sat by the fire, watching the coals burning. He'd been so quiet, she was afraid he was regretting his decision to allow her to come with him. She knew she could be a handful, but she didn't want to go back to Denerim. She couldn't go back. Granger would kill her, if for no other reason than to set an example to the others. No one escaped his grasp and returned to tell the tale.

The mumbling began about an hour into his sleep. She frowned and looked at him tossing and turning. This was going to be a bad night, she just knew it.

* * *

_Rhiannon stood in front of him. What she was asking was _too_ much. Bed the swamp witch in a magical sex rite? Create some kind of archdemon/dragon baby? He couldn't do it, he just couldn't. She didn't trust Morrigan either, how could she ask him to?_

_Still, a tiny part of him wanted to believe there was a way out, if only for her sake._

"_All right, assuming she's right and this will work and I am not saying I will do this but…is this _really_ what you want me to do?" he asked. _

_His eyes pleaded with her to tell him no._

"_You're right, Alistair. I can't ask you to do this," she agreed._

_Relief flooded him and he smiled. "Oh, thank you, love, that's such a relief. I just…." He yawned."_ _All right, it's late and I think I need to get some sleep before we march to Denerim tomorrow. Care to join me? I just want to go to sleep feeling you beside me."_

_Pausing at the door, she looked back at him with a look of firm resolve. "I just need to talk to Morrigan and then I'll be right back."_

_The scene shifted to the gates of a devastated Denerim. Riordan and Rhiannon would be going into the city to deal with the Archdemon. Her decision was to keep Alistair at the gate, taking only Wynne, Leliana and Sten with her to confront the Archdemon. He watched as everyone said their farewells, almost choking on Zevran's words of encouragement to Rhiannon about shaking hands in victory after this was done._

_She was leaving him at the gate. She knew he wouldn't have let her take that blow, but he couldn't be angry with her, knowing she wouldn't let him go anyway, no matter how he protested. And he didn't want to part with her on sour words that he would regret later._

_She walked over to him and tried to get him to look at her._

"_So, I'm not going with you, I see. Any particular reason? You aren't trying to keep me out of the battle are you? You know I didn't like it when Duncan did that either."_

"_If I fall, you must end the Blight, Alistair. Get to the Grey Wardens and warn them. Someone has to."_

_He frowned. "I understand. I don't like it, but I understand. I'll do my best out here. I guess…this is the last chance we'll get before this ends, one way or another. Just…be careful…in there." _

_Her eyes looked so sad and old, as if her soul were as ancient as time. _

"_You and I both know how this ends, love."_

"_You're right, I guess we do. I'll never forget you. I'll make sure no one else forgets either. I promise."_

_She had kissed him then, and he felt her putting all the depth of feeling she had for him into it, and he clung to her trying to hold back destiny and keep her with him._

_And then she was gone._

* * *

Michieri watched him toss and turn in his bedroll, crying out for Rhiannon again. A small stab of jealousy pricked her heart. She had never had anyone, not even her parents love her that much. Still, she felt pity for him. Perhaps the storm had triggered a really wicked nightmare and she figured she should wake him. She reached over and shook him to rouse him enough to leave the dream.

His eyes shot open and fixed on her, though she didn't think he truly saw her. He gasped and pulled her into a bone crushing hug. She tried to pull out of his grip but he was too strong and she held perfectly still instead.

"Oh, thank the Maker! I thought I had lost you!" he gasped. "I had the worst dream."

"Its all right, it was just a dream. Go back to sleep," she said, patting his back. _And let_ _me breathe_, she added in her head.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," he said.

He did lie back down and go to sleep then. For a long time Michieri couldn't rest, watching him. Then she took her bedroll moved it over to him and lay down to wrap her little arms around him and offer what comfort she could. He settled down and seemed to rest easier to her.

"I think I'm _his_ doll…" she murmured as she slipped off into slumber.


	6. Chapter 6

5

Chapter Six

The long spire of the tower which housed the Circle of Magi reached its solitary finger to the heavens, filling the view overlooking the lake. In its shadow was the small inn known as the Spoiled Princess, which had been named for the current proprietor's sister. He had been disinclined to change it, as that's what people in the region called it. For those few mages still on good terms with their families, it provided lodging for those who came to visit their kin in the tower.

Alistair dismounted and helped Michieri down. She watched with trepidation as he walked into the inn and clutched her doll to her, a knot burning in her chest wanting release. She didn't want to stay here. She wanted to go with him. Her parents had left her, now it would appear Alistair would as well. It seems everyone leaves her eventually.

Alistair had explained to her this morning that here was where they would be parting company. She didn't understand why he was going or why it seemed so important to him, but he'd explained that he had business to the west in Orzammar and he couldn't bring her with him. Something not for children, he had said. She frowned. Why did he always try to coddle her? She wasn't a baby.

She had seen so few dwarves, only that kind merchant, Gorim. She had never seen mountains before. She would love to see mountains. She wanted to see them.

More, she wanted him to show them to her. He was like the older brother she never had, who let her be a child when she so desperately needed to be. He was kind to her and he was hurting, too. She didn't know what he would do without her or she would do without him.

"He _needs_ me," she said fiercely, insistently. "I can't let him just go like this!"

Her mind worked frantically, trying to devise a way she might induce him to take her with him or to bring him back. Failing that, she would offer him what comfort she could. All this could be accomplished, she reasoned, if she hid her doll in his packs.

She reached up to his saddlebags, pushing aside a wheel of cheese, to stuff the little doll in there.

"Surely by lunch time he'll find it. He'll have to come back," she said, hopefully.

Alistair was smiling in relief when Michieri entered the tavern. The man beside him had a kind face and demeanor, but she was attached to the Grey Warden now. She was determined she wouldn't be staying long.

"Michieri, it will be hard work," said Alistair, "but he's agreed to take you in. Felsi will look after you, too."

He indicated a dwarf woman cleaning tables that looked up and smiled at her then went back to work. She looked up at Alistair, eyes bright with tears.

"Please don't go," she begged. "Please don't leave me here."

His brow furrowed and he took her hand to go sit at a table in the rear of the tavern.

"Michieri, I told you why I'm doing this. It isn't you. I have something I have to do in Orzammar and you can't come with me for that."

"Will you come back? And take me with you then?" she asked.

"No, this is goodbye, Michieri."

The knot in her chest broke then and she began to cry in earnest. She wrapped arms that were finally filling out, thanks to him, around his neck and sobbed.

"I'll miss you," she said. "You are the first person who was kind to me since my parents died. I don't want you to go."

His arms enfolded her and he patted her back reassuringly.

"This is something I have to do, Michieri," he said. He disengaged her arms and put his hand under her chin. "You'll be fine. You're free now."

Ignoring the stricken look in her eyes, he rose and walked out. She sat down and crossed her arms on the table burying her face in them, sobbing.

Alistair kept repeating to himself as he headed westward, "She'll be fine. It's better this way," but he didn't feel it. More and more he felt a knot of worry work its way into his chest.

"Maker's breath," he sighed. "I can't believe I let myself get so attached. I can't bring her with me. The Calling is something I have to do alone. She'll be fine. It's better this way."

With each step further from the inn he felt more and more wretched. Stopping a couple hours later for lunch, he was digging out some cheese when Michieri's doll fell out. He picked it up and held it close to his cheek, remembering how her soft little cheek had felt pressed to his. He tucked the doll into his belt because he simply had to return it. He tried not to notice how eager he was to turn back.

"Well, I can't very well keep this. She'll miss it," he said, remounting the horse and turning her eastward.

Michieri watched the sun overhead. By her estimation, lunch time had passed about three hours ago. Maybe he wasn't coming back. She set off in pursuit of him, but she didn't know her way and the roads out here were less traveled, more overgrown.

She sniffled, fighting tears and trying to find her way through the woods. Unfamiliar with any landmarks she could use, she realized she was getting more and more lost with each step. She tried to turn back, but it seemed there was nothing but tree trunks and greenery around her, no road at all. Within an hour she was hopelessly turned around. Now she couldn't find him or find her way back to the inn either.

She sat and began to cry as the forest seemed to close in on her. In her distress she was unaware eyes were on her.

When Alistair arrived at the inn calling for Michieri, Felsi came out distressed and relieved to see him.

"Alistair, she just slipped away! I don't know how she did it!"

"Maker's mercy!" he gasped. "I have to find her!"

He rode off, trying to look for her trail as Rhiannon had taught him. He was grateful for those lessons and her discipline. She hadn't been satisfied until he could track her in the most rugged of terrain. Finding Michieri wasn't hard, she was a city girl and unfamiliar with life in the wild. Her trail was obvious—a bent twig here, a broken branch there.

He heard her scream and his heart clutched in fear. He pressed spurs to his mount's sides and pressed her forward, pulling his sword from its scabbard and pulling his shield from his back. His tenuous grip on the shield wasn't as secure as it should be, but perhaps it didn't need to be. Her urgent screams spurred him forward into action and he couldn't second guess it.

He broke in on the clearing and saw her surrounded by three darkspawn. One had her by the leg, dragging her behind it and she was kicking and grabbing at anything she could get her hands onto to slow it down. She pulled her little paring knife from the thong that held it at her thigh and stabbed it in the hand. Red ichor sprayed her wrist and she yelped but it released her. She scrambled to her feet and began to run toward Alistair.

He slid off the horse and sliced his long sword through one of them in one clean motion. With his shield he battered a second to the ground and the third found its head separated from its body as his blade cut through it. The sword seemed to hum in his hand, lyrium etchings along its length glowing dim blue light. The remaining hurlock rose and swung at him with its jagged edged blade. This clanged ineffectually against his shield as Alistair brought that up to block the blow, but the shield slipped from his grip and clattered to the ground. The sword ripped down his arm, creating a nasty gash. He slipped under the hurlock's guard and skewered it.

He closed his eyes, reaching out with that other sense the Joining imbued within him, but detected no others nearby. Hissing angrily, he wiped his blade clean on the hurlock's cloak and turned back to Michieri. Relief mingled with anger and his tone came out much harsher than he had intended.

"_You little fool_!" he snapped. "Don't you know how dangerous it is out here? You could have been killed!" At her stricken expression, his tone softened. "Michieri, it was very foolish of you to just run off that way. The forest isn't a safe place for little girls. It isn't a safe place for anyone."

She sobbed and ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist and clinging to him in relief. He hugged her back, patting her shoulder gently as much to convince himself she was all right as to reassure her. She seemed terrified and she couldn't stop shaking, but as far as he could tell she was unharmed.

"I knew you would come back…" she sobbed happily. "You came back for me. You came back…."

"Here, let me see that," he indicated her wrist where she had been splattered with darkspawn blood. He washed it off carefully, ensuring none of it had gotten into any cuts on her, then nodded, satisfied she would be all right. He couldn't see any real injuries on her—she seemed more frightened than hurt.

He couldn't help chuckling now that he could see she was safe. "I see…you're full of tricks, aren't you? I believe this is yours."

He handed her the doll and she practically purred and cuddled it to her cheek. Then she noticed the long laceration on his arm. Her fingers touched it gently.

"You're hurt!"

"This? Hardly. It's a flesh wound only," he laughed it off.

It did hurt and he dug a poultice out of his bags and wrapped it around the wound quite awkwardly. She laughed then and frowned at him.

"Here, let me."

She wrapped the poultice well enough making sure it was tight enough to stay and he loosened it enough to where he had feeling in his fingers.

"So, you do know if you take me back, I'll just run away again. I want to be with you."

"And if you run into anymore darkspawn?"

She bit her bottom lip. It was a bluff would he be calling her on it? "I'll just kick them and hit them with my knife."

"That's a knife? It looks like something you would peel fruit with."

"Well, actually it is. But see, I _did_ wound it."

"Yes, you're quite the little darkspawn fighter, aren't you? Well, maybe you can join the Grey Wardens and fight the darkspawn."

"And save the world like Rhiannon? She was an elf, too."

"That she was," he said quietly. "But you have a lot of growing up to do before you can be a mighty archdemon slayer. Did you know the last two heroes of the Blight were elves?"

It felt good, he realized, to talk of Rhiannon without the ache of guilt and grief stabbing into his heart. It was the first time he had been able to since she died.

"I didn't know that. Who was the last one, before Rhiannon?"

"The hero, Garahel, slew the archdemon, Andoral, at the battle of Ayesleigh 400 years ago."

He mounted his horse again and pulled her up behind him, noting her happy, self satisfied smirk.

"Well, I guess we have to go back to the Spoiled Princess and let them know you're all right. And I really should go to the Tower and have the mages look at this arm, just to be safe. I suppose you can accompany me to Rainesfere. I think the only one who can handle a tricky minx like you is Bann Teagan. Or maybe you'll give him as many headaches as you give me. Maker's breath, I was so frightened. Promise me you won't do that again!"

"Only if you don't try to leave me again," she said.

He pretended to focus on the path before them, ignoring the long pause his silence created in the conversation as her hopeful declaration went unanswered.

Alistair wouldn't admit it even to himself, but he was glad to have found her and glad she would be with him just a bit longer. Michieri tightened her grip around his waist burying her face in his shoulder.


	7. Chapter 7

The final chapter (and as promised, Bann Teagan) wherein Alistair finally finds the family that circumstances had denied him all his life.

Thanks to all those who read my story and special thanks to all the lovely reviewers! I get such delight reading your comments and glad you enjoyed my story as much as writing it was for me.

* * *

Chapter Seven

They arrived at Teagan's estate, Rainesfere, four days later, where they were greeted fondly by the bann. The look of surprise on his face when he saw Alistair wasn't traveling alone was almost worth the trip.

"It's good to see you, Alistair. I'm glad you stopped in for a visit and not alone this time either. Who's this lovely young lady with you?"

"Bann Teagan, this is Michieri," he said. "We met in Denerim."

Teagan raised a brow, his tone amused. "I'm sure that's an interesting story you simply must tell me over a hot meal and in front of a warm fire. You're doubtless tired and hungry. Come in and warm yourselves."

A couple of hours later, Alistair sat in a large chair near the fireplace. Teagan sat opposite him in a matching chair. Both men were having a brandy and chatting comfortably. Michieri had fallen asleep on a thick rug on the floor, her doll cuddled loosely in her hand. Alistair didn't know how to broach the subject of the girl and was waiting for Teagan to bring her up. Teagan was avoiding the subject, obviously waiting for Alistair to discuss her. Consequently, it had been a quiet evening of discussing anything but the child sleeping peacefully at their feet.

"So, where are you going now, Alistair?" Teagan finally asked.

"I was going to Orzammar."

"Did you plan on taking her there?" Teagan asked.

"Actually, I planned on leaving her here."

"Oh? Did you? What would I do with an elven child, Alistair?" Teagan sounded amused.

"Eamon took me in. He found plenty for me to do."

"Perhaps, but I'm not Eamon. Why not stay here for a time? Your business with the dwarves can't be so pressing. Surely a week or two won't matter. Let her get settled in first before you just leave her. From what you've both told me, she has no one but you."

Alistair frowned. "I don't want to get any more attached than I already am, Teagan."

"Why not? She's obviously fond of you already or do you not see it?"

He shook his head in denial. "She'll forget me. I was just her meal ticket out of a bad situation in Denerim."

"Surely you _must _see it's more than that. This child has had to grow up a lot faster than she should have. With you she can be a child again and feels like it's okay to be one."

"I can't get close again. I won't. I always fail everyone I care about, Teagan. I don't want to fail her, too."

"So, instead, you don't give her a chance to get close to you? That's no way to live, Alistair." Teagan sighed and rose from his seat. He put one hand on Alistair's shoulder. "Why not sleep on it? A week won't make a difference, will it? I kind of miss having you around."

"I'll think about it," he agreed.

"She can have the room third from the left past the stairs. I've had the room next to it set up for you. Good night, Alistair."

"Good night, Teagan…and thanks."

He didn't want to admit that it felt good not to make a decision yet. Whether it was from relief that he didn't have to think about it or because he didn't want to go, he couldn't say.

* * *

The next morning, Alistair woke late. He had gotten so used to sleeping on the ground, being in a bed felt like a luxury he hadn't wanted to deny himself. He looked in the mirror that morning and realized he was looking a bit scruffy. Perhaps he should find Teagan's barber and get a shave. Maybe a haircut while he was at it. He was beginning to look as shaggy as Duncan.

A grin crossed his face as he thought of the older man who in so short a time had come to mean so much to him. It had been a long while and took killing the man responsible for Duncan's death for Alistair to recover from that. His own father had abandoned him and he'd loved Duncan and the Grey Wardens as the father and family he had been denied.

He found Teagan, lounging casually against a post outside in the stables, chatting amiably with Michieri, who was up tending his mount. She had faithfully curried, fed and watered that animal on their journey here. Perhaps he should give her to Michieri as a bond had formed there and the less he had to take to Orzammar, the better. He nodded to himself, the decision of what to do with his horse now out of the way. Michieri smiled up at him as he approached.

"Bann Teagan says if I do a good job he will let me tend the horses!" she said excitedly.

"Well, she's done a fine job taking care of your horse, Aislin and she'll need to do something to earn her keep," confirmed Teagan. "Of course tending my horses isn't an easy job. You'll also have to take them out riding to keep them healthy, too. I can help in that respect. Alistair, have you given what we discussed last night any further thought?"

Michieri watched him hopefully. That she wanted to stay was evident.

Alistair couldn't help grinning. "All right, I'll stay a few days, but I don't want to wear out my welcome, Teagan."

"You could never do that, Alistair. You'll always be welcome in my home. I owe you my life, and more, and you're family," Teagan replied with a grin. "Hopefully I can convince you to winter here in Rainesfere."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far, but thanks. I'll take it under advisement."

* * *

Teagan was delighted to play host that night. Rainesfere didn't often get visitors and Alistair was like family. He had a plan to make these two admit they needed each other and he was determined to see it through. Michieri was already half won over, now he had to make her see that she belonged here, too. Alistair was a tougher nut to crack, but Teagan felt he could fix that, too.

A carefully worded suggestion to the young man about how he should be wearing better fitting clothing and how he could use a shave and a haircut sent Alistair in search of Victor.

Teagan's household being a small estate and not a huge castle like Redcliffe, his brother's home, consisted of a manservant, a cook and two maids. Victor, the butler was also quite adept at cutting hair and it was a neatly trimmed Alistair who came to dinner that night.

Teagan was pleased to see Michieri glaring at the new look. Alistair didn't look like "her" scruffy Alistair this evening. Even his hair was cut short and spiked at the brow line. In Teagan's richer attire, it was as if he had removed ten years from his appearance.

"Ah, looking like your old self again," said Teagan with a quick glance out of the corner of his eye at the girl. "It's good to see all that scruffiness gone. I swear, you were starting to look older than Eamon. How does the clothing fit?"

Alistair chuckled. "Not bad. I guess I've lost a bit of weight over the past year. It's loose in some places. Thanks for loaning me these."

"Not at all, my boy, now everyone eat up. Cook prepared all your favorite recipes, Alistair, and she'll be disappointed if you don't make a pig out of yourself tonight."

Dinner was animated between the two men as they planned hunts and Teagan talked about some repairs around the estate with which they could occupy themselves. Michieri, however, didn't seem to have much appetite.

"What's wrong, Michieri?" asked Teagan. "Don't you like the food?"

"It's very good, I'm…just not very hungry. May I be excused?" she pleaded. "I'm really tired."

"Of course, get some rest. We'll go riding tomorrow." He turned his attention to Alistair. "I want to take a look at the northern edge of the estate. We have been having some trouble with wild animals in the area and I need to make sure the fence is intact."

Alistair watched the girl go, puzzlement on his face and Teagan suppressed a small smile.

From the looks of her, the girl hadn't had much to eat before Alistair had found her and she was still far too thin for her own good. If she was this upset that she wasn't eating, then the plan was working. He just had to get them to see how much they needed each other. Preferably before the girl starved herself. There would be time to fill out her limbs once she and Alistair decided staying was the best course of action. Michieri was the easy one to convince, he had to reach Alistair and from the concerned look the young man shot at the girl's retreating back, it boded well for them.

* * *

Michieri slumped into her small bed and hugged her doll to her tightly. She wasn't sure what she was feeling. She should be happy that Alistair was happy at last, but she wasn't. On the road it had been just the two of them and she had thought he was even starting to enjoy having her along with him.

Here, she had to share him with Teagan and he seemed so much happier. He was well groomed for the first time since they met. She was glad for him, but upset that Teagan could offer him a life she didn't fit into. On the road he had been _her_ Alistair, here he didn't need her anymore.

She was able to get to sleep, but her dreams were fitful and her sleepy befuddled mind sought the only comfort she had known. She rose from her bed, slipped out of her room, and went into Alistair's. He was sleeping fitfully and she wondered why he seemed to always have bad dreams. Then, sticking her thumb in her mouth, a habit she had outgrown years ago but now offered comfort, and cuddling her doll, she lay down on the rug next to his bed, going back to sleep.

* * *

The following morning Alistair awoke to Michieri on the side of his bed sleeping on the rug. He smiled, picked her up, and tucked her into his bed. He brushed a lock of dark red hair out of her eyes and her brow furrowed as if she didn't like what she was dreaming.

For a bit, he sat there watching her. She was actually putting on some weight now. He could see her face filling out and she seemed much younger than he had first realized now that he looked at her more closely. Here with Teagan she could be happy, safe and well cared for. She didn't need him anymore. He shouldn't dally here—he had something to finish and if he stayed any longer he'd grow so attached he wouldn't be able to leave.

He bent and kissed her cheek and then started to pack his things. Downstairs, he ran into Teagan who was just heading out the door to the stables.

"I have to go, Teagan. Thank you for taking her in. I know you'll take good care of her."

"Alistair, I said I would, but how can you not see what she wants is to be with you, not I," Teagan said. "You haven't seen the looks she gives you when she knows you aren't looking. I've only seen a face like that once before on a child."

"Oh? Who would that be?

"The last time I saw a face that wretchedly heartbroken was on a young boy covered in mud and wailing about being sent to the Chantry."

Alistair frowned and ignored Teagan, instead walking out the door. He paused on the step, the clouds above gray and forbidding.

"Looks like rain," Teagan said, casting a wary glare at the sky.

"A little rain won't stop me. I've walked through worse."

"In the mountains it'll be snow. The pass might even be closed. Why not wait until spring to make your journey?" Teagan ignored his glare.

"I'll chance it. The mountains are only a week away by foot."

Teagan shrugged.

"Well, best you be off then. Don't give her a chance to wake up and say goodbye because Maker forbid you might actually have to deal with it," Teagan's voice was measured, but Alistair heard the anger in his tone.

Without another word, he started down the path to the road and didn't look back.

* * *

Teagan waited until he no longer saw Alistair's retreating form and then went upstairs. Not finding Michieri in her room, he went to Alistair's instead and found her sleeping. He cleared his throat rather loudly and the girl startled awake.

"Bann Teagan?" she gasped. "Where…this is Alistair's room." She grinned and jumped off the bed. "You promised we'd go riding today. Is Alistair coming?"

"No, riding is off the agenda today, it looks like rain later in the day, though I may still go out to check on that problem I was having. I have something to tell you and there's no easy way for me to say this, Michieri."

Touching her cheek, she frowned. "I thought I was dreaming. I wasn't, was I? He's gone!"

She pushed past him and raced down the hall, calling for Alistair, but there was no answer. Racing out the front door, calling for him repeatedly, she stopped at the end of the path and looked both ways down the road. He was nowhere in sight. She sat down in the grass and began to weep bitterly.

Teagan joined her and sat quietly next to her until she had collected herself enough to notice him there. She swiped her hand across her eyes leaving a dirty smear.

"Fine! Let him go! I didn't want to be with him anymore anyway. What's so special about Orzammar? It's much nicer here in Rainesfere."

"I'd have to agree, but then I'm prejudiced. I love this land like no other," Teagan said, grinning.

"Why didn't you say something to stop him? He hasn't been taking care of himself out there on the road. He's going to get sick up in those mountains. He'll catch his death of the cold."

"No, he won't. He plans on living to get to Orzammar's Deep Roads. Nothing I could say would stop him."

She sniffled. "So what's so special about these Deep Roads?"

Teagan sighed. For him, children were loved and protected, but they shared this world with adults and shared their fates as well. Hoping it would move her to action, he was honest with her. "It's where the darkspawn live, Michieri. It's where Grey Wardens go to die."

She leapt to her feet.

"Die? He's going up there _to die_?" She shook her head emphatically. "Tell me where he's gone, Bann Teagan! Which way did he go?"

Teagan shrugged and gestured. "He would've headed west. It wasn't that long ago. Perhaps you can catch him?"

"I hope so."

She turned and raced off leaving a smiling Teagan to watch her. He looked up at the sky. "Well, I hope she brings him back before the weather breaks."

* * *

Alistair hadn't gotten very far. He kept stopping and couldn't get comfortable. His pack wasn't situated right or his boot had a rock in it or his sword was banging on his leg uncomfortably. Any excuse but the real reason he was so reluctant to go kept running through his mind.

This morning his mind had been made up for him but now that he was actually seeing it through, doubts began to gnaw away at the edge of his resolve. Did he truly wish to die still? Perhaps…he should go back, at least give Michieri a chance to make her goodbyes to him. He stopped and turned back, then shook his head and resumed his journey, his mind in turmoil. When he heard his name being called, and turned to see her come over the rise, he was actually relieved.

She ran up to him and he met her halfway. They stopped and regarded each other for a moment, then he opened his arms wide and she ran to him.

She began to pummel him with her little fists. He put up his arms to spare his face but she rained a few fast blows on his shoulders. Around them the heavens finally broke in a thick rain, but they ignored nature's fury caught up in a fury of their own.

"Stop! Stop please!" he cried out, half jokingly. "I bruise easily."

She stopped hitting him and let him hug her then.

"Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again! You saved me! I don't want to be with anyone else," she said.

"What about Bann Teagan? He's really nice and I know he's fond of you. He can take better care of you than I can. I've told you, Michieri, I can barely take care of myself, I can't be responsible for a child, too."

"And I said I'll have to take care of you," she said. "I was actually thinking you'd decided to stay. You seemed so happy and I felt like I didn't belong to you anymore. Were you trying to make me feel bad so I would let you go?"

"You did? I…I didn't know you felt that way. I was just feeling better about things and I hadn't felt like my old self in a long, long time. This is how I used to look before…"

"Before Rhiannon died?"

"Yes. I thought you were settled in and happy and I could go do what I thought I had to do."

"You big idiot! I was only happy there because you were there," she snapped and swatted him again. "Why would you just leave like that and not say goodbye?"

"Because I knew I wouldn't be coming back. And because I was afraid you would talk me out of it and I would stay."

"Bann Teagan says Orzammar is where Grey Wardens go to die. Is that true?"

Alistair nodded. "It's true. I did want to die…before."

Her eyes gleamed with hope. "And now? Do you still want to die?"

He hugged her tightly and buried his face in her hair. "No, she wouldn't have wanted that. I…I think she sent you to me so I could want to live again." Then as an afterthought, "You know, Michieri, one day I will have to go."

"Enough of this dying talk. Maybe you'll go there one day, but not today. You promised Bann Teagan you'd help him with his fence and you promised you would take me riding with you. Well, maybe not today, but I'm going to hold you to that promise."

Michieri clung to him and her look of fierce determination melted away to one of youthful optimism, the maturing young lady giving way finally to the child. At least for a time, she could be a child again. She looked at him, imploringly.

"Let's go home," she begged him.

As she said the word, he knew no matter where they went, what they did, Michieri had become his home. He shook his head, chuckling. It was going to be quite the task to raise this child, but Alistair felt he could manage it.

Alistair and Michieri arrived back at Rainesfere, covered in mud and running through the late fall downpour, laughing like little children and full of hope for the future.


End file.
